The studio specialized in schlock, there's no two ways about it. Schlock and imaginative, bold, blunt promotional artwork with only a loose connection to the movie itself. Yet, because they were so anxious to flood the market, Cannon was also something of an artistic paradise. So long as a director came in under budget and on time, they'd usually have carte-blanche. Naturally, this led to some wild swings and misses (like 1980's The Apple, a self-professed science fiction / comedy / musical that defies explanation), but that freedom also bore fruit that wouldn't have otherwise existed (see 1984's open-hearted urban snapshot Breakin'). It's an interesting paradox, and a tempting what-if story, considering the studio's ultimate demise after a ruinous series of big budget mainstream efforts. Remember Superman IV or Masters of the Universe? These guys still wish they could forget.
A fun target for a documentary, with a surprising cache of familiar names hanging around to reminisce about the murkier portions of their respective filmographies, but it feels incomplete without either of the head honchos present to share the serious dirt. They, of course, caught wind of the film's pending release and raced to create their own, competing, retrospective.